


Meet Jude Stevens

by boardpresence



Category: Jonnor - Fandom, The Fosters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:42:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4204959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boardpresence/pseuds/boardpresence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU where Jude is the son of Adam Stevens and Connor is adopted by Lena & Stef, as requested in a fic exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet Jude Stevens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amcwish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amcwish/gifts).



            Meet Jude Stevens. He has just turned 15 years old and is now 5’10” tall.  An excellent student, he is first in his class.  When he is not studying—which is nearly constantly—he can be found running, physically and emotionally.  Often both at the same time.  Like right now.  Amidst his fellow track-mates, Jude’s lungs are burning as he completes mile four. Around the block, around the block again and again, the coach yelling times as they pass by. He runs on the track team because he is well-rounded.  He runs from his father, Adam Stevens, who has told Jude that he is well-rounded, who is the head of cardiology at the local hospital, who demands nothing but excellence from his son, who demands that Jude also attend Williams College and Harvard Medical School as he did, and his father before him.  His father, who suffers no mistakes. His mother, who sleeps with prince valium all day.  Jude runs. His lungs are burning, his legs are burning, everything burns.

            Jude slows his pace as he finishes mile six, catching up to his best friend and compatriot Taylor Cahill, who finished mile six ahead of him. Taylor is like Jude, number two in the class, though occasionally number one as Jude is reminded by his father when the circumstance arises, and sometimes even when it hasn’t. They discuss their grades like people discuss the dead, in hushed tones, worried that speaking too loudly will summon the wrath of their ancestors and strike them down to an A-minus. Hermione Granger had nothing on these two.  They love each other, though are not lovers.  Their bond is platonic, as they know from their advanced class on Greek philosophy. They discuss their homework, then dread the work of going home.

            Jude and Taylor arrive early at school the next day.  They have to organize their mock-UN conference together.  They sit in the room where they learn history.  They try to sort out whether the Prime Minister of Libya, Elena Buckminster, will send aid to the Sudan, their neighbor to their south.  The tension between the nations is at an all-time high; the Chief Minister of Sudan, August Cello, had recently made disparaging remarks about Elena’s wardrobe on Instagram.  Jude and Taylor look up in frustration and stare at the globe on the table.  It is well-rounded, like them.

            Enter Lena Adams-Foster.  She is the vice-principal of the school, radiant, and warm.  At all times caring, Taylor and Jude each secretly wish she was their mother.  Lena peeks her head through the door.  “Hey guys.” Her voice is lightness itself.  She knew that she could find them there.  They are always there.  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything terribly serious.”

            “Well, the Sudan is suffering from famine, but the Libyans won’t help with the relief efforts because someone, not to name names, can’t keep his sartorial criticisms to himself.”  Jude says archly.

            Taylor sweeps her hair from her face. “It’s ridiculous.” She looks up at the clock. “Oh god, I have to go.” Jumping from her seat and stuffing the detritus of world politics into her bag, Taylor bolts from the room muttering curses about her lazy physical sciences lab-partner.

            Jude turns his attention back to Lena.  “Um, did you want me or her?”

            “You. I know that you’re a busy guy, but I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

            “What?” Jude chirps.

            “Well, as you may know, my wife and I are foster parents.  We recently agreed to foster a boy your age. He’s missed a lot of school from being bounced around foster homes, so he’s…well, behind.  I was wondering if I could persuade you to do some tutoring.” The question is a slurry of hope and anxiety, the bangles on her wrists chiming as she wrings her hands together.

            “Um…” Jude pauses.

            “I’m happy to pay you.” Lena inserts quickly.

            “No, it’s not that, I just have to ask my dad.”  He knows what the answer is.  Yes, his father will say.  You must impress the vice-principal, she can write you a recommendation.  You will do it without pay.   You will make it fit in your schedule.  Jude will ask anyway, maybe he will say no. 

 

***

           

            Jude and Lena have arranged for him to go to her house on Saturday morning. Adam had directed Jude to make it happen.  Jude rings the doorbell.  He isn’t expecting a police officer to answer.  “Um…” Jude looks up and down the length porch for the house number.

            “Hey, you must be Jude.” Her voice is soft and friendly like Lena’s, she stands back and invites him in.  “Lena, Connor, Jude is here!” She turns to Jude and says “got to go, thanks for helping out like this!” Within seconds she is down the stairs and in her black SUV.

            Jude glances around the entryway, into the living room on the left, the dining room on the right.  He feels like this is an intrusion, just looking, like a thief stealing the scenery. There is so much stuff, but it is cozy, like a well curated and high-end flea-market.  It is so different from his own home with its sterile white walls and minimalist furniture.  His house is prepped for surgery.  This house feels and smells like apples and cinnamon.  His eyes wander up the stairs. 

            The boy at the top of the stairs is, like Jude, 15 years old and 5’10” tall. That is where the similarities end. Almost.  This is Connor.  He has no last name because he is nobody, or at least he is never anybody anywhere long enough for it to matter.  His father is a drunk, or would be if he could get alcohol in prison.  His mother has gone missing.  Connor’s formal education has been sporadic at best, his social education, brutal. His only regular activity is exercise.  It is the only thing he can ever take with him, and it shows.

            Lena rounds the corner of the living room, arms out and reaching for Jude. “Hey Jude! Welcome and thanks for coming!” She puts her hand on his back. He likes how gently she touches him.  She raises her arm up the stairs at Connor, flapping him down with her hand.  The bangles on her arm chime as they always do.

            Connor’s feet flop down the stairs, his face inscrutable. 

            “Jude, this is Connor.” Her smile is infectious. 

            Jude, wearing Lena’s grin, says “Hey, nice to meet you.” He extends his hand.

            Connor’s head is down, his eyes up. “Hey.”  He shakes Jude’s hand, but immediately retracts it to the back of his head.

            Jude rocks on the balls of his feet, his arms shoved in his pockets, his book bag almost falling off of his shoulder.  He is suddenly nervous.  “So, history?”

            “I don’t want to talk about it.” Connor says instantly.  His face says that he instantly regretted saying it.

            Lena’s expression drops like so much sand falling off of a cliff. She shifts her weight, her body attempting to embrace Connor at a distance.  Connor has shown little interest in being touched.

            “It’s ok.” Jude starts as he raises his arms at his elbows, palms out, forcing a laugh.  

            Connor looks up and gulps.  His right hand is holding his left bicep, his other hand is down at his side. “Sorry.”

            Lena recovers her composure and returns an awkward “well, why don’t you guys sit at the dining room table and get started.  I’ll get some snacks.” She smiles at the boys as she walks from the room. 

            Jude fixes his eyes on Connor’s face.  Connor looks back at Jude for a moment then turns away, walking toward the table where he seats himself.  He slaps his hands on the tabletop.  “Well, ejumacate me!”

            “Uh, well, it’s pronounced educate.” Jude says as gently as possible, it is an attempt to not embarrass his new student.

            “So you have no sense of humor. Got it.” He cocks his head up and down, in agreement with himself. 

            “I do!” Jude declares as he sits down next to Connor, his bag landing on the table with unexpected force. “I just thought-”

            “You thought what? That I’m just the stupid kid who can’t what? Speak?” He sat back in his chair, his perimeter established.   

            “No. Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…I don’t think you’re stupid, ok? I don’t even know you.” Jude was not used to this. He so rarely spoke with his peers outside of the academic environment that he had no idea how to be friendly with anyone other than Taylor. 

            Connor’s problem was similar, except the only people he regularly spoke with were social workers and juvenile delinquents.  “That’s it exactly.  So how about we start so that we can be done.”

            And that was that.  The books were cracked and the papers were scattered about the table.  Despite the rocky start, the tension slowly diffused over the several hours that they marched through major portions of U.S. colonial history. By the time lunch rolled around, Jude was beginning to feel quite confident that his pupil was not such a bad guy.  They even managed to laugh a little.      

Connor slammed his book shut. “I’m done. Lena said we should make ourselves sandwiches.” He looked expectantly at Jude as he stood.  

            Jude nodded in agreement and slid his own materials back into his bag. “It’s your house, after you.”

            Connor’s arms flew up to the heavens and slammed back down at his side, his chin pointed at the ceiling, crying out “it’s not my fucking house.” His head flopped back down as he began walking to the kitchen.

            Jude trailed after him. “Hey man, I’m sorry.  I wasn’t thinking.”

            “Nah, it’s not your fault.” Connor’s voice emanated from inside the refrigerator. “It’s always like this.”

            “Like what?”

            Deli meat flew out from behind the fridge door, skidding across the table and back onto the floor. “This never lasts.  Either the foster family sucks ass or I fuck it up. Lena and Stef are really nice, so I’m guessing I’m going to fuck it up this time.” The mayo landed with a thud in the sink.  Connor shut the fridge door and turned his attention to the pantry shelves.

            “Don’t say that.  Maybe you can make this work.” Jude caught the bread as it sailed toward his head.

            Connor began unpacking the deli meat.  He kept his head down as he struggled with the plastic and the sticker holding it shut, trying not to tear the fragile bag.  He cast his eyes up at Jude. “Can you grab the mayo?”

            Jude grabbed the mayo from the sink, sliding it gently across the kitchen table. “So…and you don’t have to answer and it doesn’t really matter, but did you get kicked out of your last foster home?”

            “No, they were-” the bag had torn, “goddamn it!” He threw the ham back on the table, possibly killing it for a second time as it bounced up and onto the floor. Connor stood there, his hands flat on the counter, his head tucked in between his arms. 

            Jude walked around the table and picked the ham off the floor. He put his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

            “Thanks.” Connor kept his head down, talking to the table.  “Can you go now?”

            “Ok.” Jude’s hand slid off Connor’s shoulder.  He turned and left the house. 

            Connor stooped and picked up the bits of ham splattered on the floor.

 

***

           

It was early on Monday morning and the Libyans were still no closer to helping the Sudanese. Over the weekend the Prime Minister of Libya had been telling the leaders of the OPEC nations that the Chief Minister of the Sudan had a micropenis. “God, and you know that China is going to get involved, because Becky is best friends with Elena and you know how she gets.” Taylor was lilting back in her chair, face to the ceiling. After several moments of silence, Taylor sat up again and looked at Jude.  He was staring out the window. “Hellooooo!” She waved her hand in front of Jude’s face.

He snapped back into focus. “Oh, what?”

“What’s up with you? You’ve been acting really weird the past couple of days.”

The door to the history classroom crept open and Lena’s face popped through. “Hey guys!” She proceeded to open the door wider.

“Hi Lena!” Jude shot up.  He looked past her and saw Connor’s downcast face could behind her shoulder. He froze.

“Listen, it’s Connor’s first day and I was hoping you two could show him around.” Her request was fortified by the unrelenting kindness that emitted from her eyes like the solar wind.  The woman was basically unstoppable, you just couldn’t let her down. She turned her face to Connor, “You already know Jude, and this is Taylor.” She stood aside and gestured for him to enter the room.

“Hi!” Taylor stood and reached out her hand. 

Connor gave a weak smile and tiny wave.

“Hey.” Jude waved back.

“Hey.” Connor buried his hands in his pockets.  An outside observer might have though that the floor of the room held some fascinating secret of the universe given the way Connor was staring at it.

“You guys going to be ok?” Lena said, backing out of the door.

“We got it.” Jude replied.

Taylor smiled and nodded. “He will get the grand tour.” After Lena had departed the scene she continued, her gaze fixed on Jude. “So how did you guys meet?”

Jude’s hand had been resting in the back of his head.  “Uh, tutoring.  I thought I told you.” He knew that it was a futile lie.

“Oh right.” Taylor said.  Her eyes had not left him.

“Um, should I step out?” Connor said, slowing backing away.

“No!” Jude and Taylor said together.

“You know, if you two want to sort out your…relationship troubles-” Connor was cut short by another exclamation of denial from Jude and Taylor. “So, you’re not dating?”

“Definitely not.” Jude said firmly.

Despite the truth of it, and not having any romantic interest in Jude, Taylor could not help but look a little hurt. 

Jude was turning red.  “I mean, Taylors awesome. She’s my best friend.  We’re just not, like, a couple.” He had been looking back and forth between Connor and Taylor as he said it, his hands whipping through the air in confused gesticulation.  One could be forgiven for thinking he was having a small seizure.

“You’re a mess.” Taylor said shortly, though not without a hint of humor. “Let’s get going shall we?”

The trio began wandering the mostly empty halls, Jude and Taylor pointing out various essential facilities and classrooms.  Students were slowly trickling in at first, then in a massive crush that always precedes the homeroom period where attendance is taken.  Taylor parted ways with the boys, and Jude lead Connor to the appropriate classroom.

At the door Jude and Connor lingered outside the door, not saying anything, but clearly neither party was about to disengage.   For Jude’s part, he wanted to say something to Connor about their awkward parting on Saturday, but Connor’s reactions thus far to anything remotely personal had been poor, as demonstrated on Saturday.  Instead, Jude said “do you want to join the track team?” Jude was just as mystified by this statement as Connor appeared to be. Sometimes there is no accounting for hasty questions.

“Umm, I hadn’t ever thought about it.” It wasn’t that he couldn’t run, he could, it was that nagging feeling of obligation.  In his fifteen years he could not remember having ever actually met any obligations whatsoever, his life had basically consisted of a string of failures, each one often more spectacular than the last.  Nevertheless, he spat out “but I guess I could give it a shot.”

“Cool, just meet me right here after school and we can head over together.”

“Ok, see you then.”

 

***

 

            Remarkably, the rest of the week went fairly smoothly for Connor.  It had been the longest stretch of time he had gone without picking a fight, yelling at an authority figure, skipping school, being suspended or detained, or being disciplined by his foster family.  He had even been complimented on it by his social worker. In the afternoons he, Jude, and Taylor would run track then head back to the school to do homework. Things were looking up. 

            Where Connor’s week had been one of marked improvement, Jude’s week had been in the other direction.  The presence of Connor during his regular study time incited in Jude a rather uncharacteristic disregard for the adequacy of his academic performance. This did not go unnoticed.

            It did not go unnoticed because instead of the quiet room she was used to, Taylor was now contending with two boys whose only objective goal seemed to be goofing around.  Not that her studying and homework wasn’t accomplished in some fashion, rather her afternoons were punctuated by supercilious laughing, and she could hardly believe it, _horseplay_.  She had never seen Jude do anything physical other than running, and all of a sudden, here he was play-fighting.  

            This afternoon, Friday, had been particularly irksome to Taylor. The study session had started out on a promising note, with relatively little disruption until giggling commenced over their geography homework, specifically Lake Titicaca.  Taylor, seeing the beginning of the end, said “Since it’s obvious that this isn’t going to go get any better, can we discuss the situation in Africa?”

            Connor’s eyes peaked in confusion, and Jude quickly said to him “It’s for our mock-U.N.  We’re trying to get the Libyans to help out with some relief efforts in the Sudan, but the leaders of those countries are fighting, so we are at a bit of an impasse on the subject.”

            This did not alleviate Connor’s confusion, and it showed on his face.

            “Oh, it’s really not worth getting into.” Taylor whined, clearly frustrated.

            “Come on! Tell me.”

Connor’s sincerity was obvious, but Taylor was equally sincere in not wanting to be bothered explaining. “Okay, how about this.  I’m going to my locker to get some materials for our history project,” she gestured to Jude and herself, “Jude can stay and explain how bitchy teenagers on Instagram are destabilizing northern Africa.” She stood and left.

“Okay then.” Connor said as the door to the room closed.

“Yeah, she can be pretty intense.”

“No shit.”

“We really should try to be less, you know, disruptive.  It really isn’t fair to her.  And I would probably do the same thing if she had someone in here messing around all the time.”

“Is that what the only thing we’re doing?”

Jude could not help but interpret Connor’s tone and body language as being anything other than deeply probative, suggestive even.  It was unsettling, but not unwelcome. In his stomach, Jude had been feeling a little dizzy all week, but now it was in freefall.  Of course, that was on the inside.  To the outside world his face was wide-eyed and slack-jawed. 

Connor immediately began laughing, and had Jude not been totally been absorbed in his own thoughts he would have noticed that it was quite forced. “Man, relax. I was just kidding.” He punched Jude in the shoulder.

Jude emerged from his shock. “Oh, yeah. I know.” He returned the friendly punch and put forth equally forced laughter.

Connor hit him again.  Taylor’s earlier observation was astute, this was the end of homework.  The scuffle escalated quickly, with the boys out of their chairs by the second wave of pseudo violence.  As usual, the hitting evolved into the boys locking hands, heads down, backs bent, and feet braced against the floor, just pushing on each other.  Connor, by virtue of his superior muscle mass, had been the de facto winner of these contests, and that trend appeared to be on track to continue.  He had Jude nearly pinned to the wall when, in a moment of desperation, Jude swung his arms down and tried to grab Connor’s waist. 

The reaction was just as fast as it was unexpected.  Connor let out a loud, high-pitched squeal. They both stopped and stared at each other.  Jude’s eyes narrowed. Connor slowly began walking backwards, muttering “oh no,” and pulling his arms into his chest.

Jude leapt at him, his voice ringing out in presumed triumph. His spindly arms worked their way past Connor’s defenses and found their target.  In a matter of seconds, Connor went from squealing and doubled-over to gasping on the floor, curled up in a ball with Jude on top of him. Jude was tickling Connor like the Allies storming the beaches at Normandy, only without the guns and Nazis.

A loud thud of books brought an end to the assault.  “Oh my god, guys, you have ZERO CHILL.” Taylor stood there, staring at the two.

Jude fell to the side and landed on his butt right next to Connor, who was still paralyzed on his side as he tried to regain something of a regular breathing pattern.  They both looked sheepishly at Taylor.

She clutched her temples and sighed heavily into her chest. “Connor, can you give Jude and I a minute please?” It was a polite, but forceful statement.

Connor looked at Jude.  Jude nodded and waved him out. “Okay, I’m just going to…run a few laps around the hallway, I guess.” Connor said uncertainly, shrugging his shoulders and walking out of the room.

“I’m really sorry, Taylor.  I just-”

“It’s fine, Jude.” Taylor said abruptly, holding her hand up to signify that Jude should stop talking. “Listen, I’m really glad that you found a friend, I really am.  It’s about time you found someone to talk to that isn’t me.  It’s just that this has to stop.  We both need this time to study and you know it.”

“I do know it, and when you left I was talking to Connor about how we need to chill out, and that this was really disrespectful. I’m really sorry, I just haven’t been feeling myself lately.  I think I’m just tired.”

““Um, I’ve seen you tired.  This is not tired.  This is distracted. I looked at the first draft of your portion of our history project and it’s utter nonsense. We’re writing about the genocide of the Native Americans, and you just rambled on for pages—without citations, mind you—about how they were so misunderstood and “just need to be given a chance,” she air-quoted, “they were wiped out, Jude, not some neglected teenager who-”

Jude looked at her, expecting her to go on, but nothing came out. “What?”

Taylor was just staring at him, occasionally glancing at the door. She started laughing. “So, when did you two start dating?”

“Oh my god, what? We are not dating.” Jude was indignant.

“Jude, you can tell me, I don’t care if you are.  I promise not to tell anyone.”

“Taylor! We aren’t dating!” Jude said in a huff.

“But you are gay, though. You can’t deny that. To me, anyway.” Taylor said.

Jude looked anywhere but at Taylor.  “Maybe. I guess. I don’t know.” He mumbled.

“And you have a crush on Connor.”

He couldn’t deny that, either.  Jude stopped looking around the room and stared at the floor. This conversation was entirely unexpected, and he was flustered, but he still couldn’t ignore that he felt some relief, too.  It was about time that he faced this.

“He has a crush on you, too, you know.” Taylor was always confident, even when she was only making an educated guess.

Jude looked up in disbelief.  He shrugged his shoulders and crunched his face up saying “What makes you think that?” He paused for a second, and in mixed hope and concern added “Did he say something?”

“Jude, sweetheart, he doesn’t have to say anything.  It’s just the way he looks at you, and all the times he just makes an excuse to touch you, and god, he just follows you around like a lost puppy.”

“He is kind of like a puppy.” Jude bit his lips to prevent his face from rupturing into a pants-on-head ridiculous smile.

“Well, listen, just be careful.  He may seem like a puppy on the outside, but he’s a wounded puppy on the inside, and that part…it’s not in cute in the least.”

“Wait, what are you saying?”

“I’m just saying that-” 

Her monologue was interrupted by a shout from the hallway “Don’t fucking touch me!” This was followed by the sound of something soft hitting something metal at what was very likely high velocity.  They ran into the hallway only to see what appeared to be the end of Connor’s good week.

 

***

 

            Jude and Taylor stood in the hallway with Lena, while the school nurse looked over the school’s security guard, Ted, who was sitting on the floor and not looking better for it.  “So, did you two see what happened?” Lena was in total shock. 

            Jude spoke up first. “We were studying, and then Taylor and I needed to talk privately, so Connor said he was going to run laps around the hallway. Like, five minutes into our conversation we heard Connor yell, and then a loud sound. We ran out and saw Ted on the floor, and then Connor just ran.  I tried to follow him, but I don’t know where he went.”

            Taylor joined in. “When Jude ran off, I went back to the classroom and called you.  That’s all we know.”

            Lena listened with a look of consternation. She crossed her arms and looked down. “This is not good.”

            Ted had already told his part.  He had seen Connor running around and asked him to stop and present his school ID.  When he couldn’t, the security guard grabbed his arm.  That was when Connor yelled and pushed him off his feet and into the lockers.

            “So,” Lena looked up and addressed Taylor and Jude, “I don’t suppose you have any idea where he went.”

            Both of them shook their heads, but Jude ventured “Why wouldn’t he go back home?”

            “I don’t know that he thinks of my house as his home, kiddo.”

            “Did you call him?” Taylor asked.

            “He doesn’t have a phone.” Lena replied.

            Jude, whose life had been largely spent in the good graces of the adults in his life, and who had never really even had much to conceal, had not developed any filter when it came to speaking with adults, “Yes he does.”  It would not have occurred to him that this fact was not something Connor would want to share with any authority figure in his life.

            Lena’s sense of relief was palpable. “Can you call him, please?”

            Jude dialed his number. Seconds passed, then the faint sound of a ringtone emanated from the classroom in which they had been studying.  Everyone slowly turned around to face the door. No answer.  They approached the room and went inside. There was no one there, just Connor’s book bag sitting on the table, ringing. 

 

***

 

            It had been agreed that the best course of action was for everyone to head home.  Lena would bring Connor’s things back to the house.  She had let Taylor and Jude know that her wife, Stef, would go out and see if she couldn’t find where Connor had gone.  In the meanwhile, Taylor and Jude were under strict instructions to let Lena know if they got in contact with Connor.  It was all very straight forward.  What Jude couldn’t figure out was why Connor would do this in the first place.  And it seemed to be the one question that no one wanted to ask or answer.

            The question ate at him on the walk home, along with wondering where Connor had run off to.  Lena had promised him that she would let him know if Connor came back to her house, but he didn’t hold out much hope for that.  He was sure that he had seen the last of Connor. 

            Had Jude not been so consumed with angst over the loss of his new friend, he would have noticed the figure crouched in the shrubbery just outside of his house.  He also would probably not have almost shit his pants when a hand grabbed his arm as he turned onto the walkway to the door, nor would he have yelled so loud.

            “Jesus Christ, Jude! Calm down!” Connor was glancing up and down the street.

            “Dude! What are you doing here? Everyone is looking for you!” Jude was flabbergasted that Connor would turn up at his house like this.  The emotion could be described as deeply unhappy elation. He was a bit unsettled and angry that Connor would just turn up like this after what he had done, but at the same time he could not help but feel warmed by the fact that Connor had chosen to come to him over everyone else.

            “Hey can we get off the street?” His monitoring of the road had not abated.

            “I guess, but where are we going to go?”

            Connor could not quite make out the question, “Um, inside?” He gestured to Jude’s house.

            “Okay, but you can’t stay too long, like you have to go back ho-” Jude caught himself before resuming with “to Lena and Stefs’ house at _some_ point.”  Over the course of the week he had developed a much better sense of what and what not to say to and around Connor.                

            “Can I just spend the night?” He was pleading.

            “My dad is going to ask about that, like you don’t even have any clothes or anything with you.”

            On cue, Connor reached into the bushes and pulled out a small duffel bag. “I ran to Stef and Lenas’ and grabbed this before coming here.”

            “You had time to pack?”

            “I never unpacked.” Connor said, obviously anxious about their continued presence outside. “I don’t suppose you grabbed my book bag?”

            “No, Lena took it.”

            “Shit. She’s going to find my phone.”

            Jude unfailing honesty kicked in again, “About that.” He shuffled his feet. “I kinda already told her you did.” Jude noted Connor’s look of dismay. “Well, like you said, she was probably going to find it anyway.”

            Connor’s whole body deflated.

            “Hey, come on, it’s not that bad.  Let’s go in.” He gave Connor a nudge with his shoulder.

            “So I can stay?”

            “Yeah, or I’ll ask anyway.”

            The boys made their way into the house.  As they opened the door, they were greeted by Jude’s father. Adam Stevens was a tall man with a severe face and a demeanor to match.  He stood still on the landing to the stairs, and if it weren’t for his blinking he might have been a statue. 

            “Hi dad.  This is Connor. He’s the new kid I was telling you about.”

            Nothing.

            “The one I’ve been tutoring.”

            Adam raised his head in recognition, “ahh, you’re the foster kid.” There was no contempt in his voice, only indifference.

            “Dad!” Jude dropped his bag and scoffed in disgust.

            Adam seemed only bemused by his son’s diffidence. “Right. Sorry, Connor. It was only an observation. I also see that you have a bag. I’m guessing that you two have made plans for you to sleep here.” It was not a question.  He turned to Jude and said “That’s fine. Just be sure to get all of your homework done and don’t forget your SAT tutor is coming in the afternoon. I have to go to the hospital for the evening, it seems there is an emergency.  Your mother is…” he waved his hand nonchalantly up the stairs. With that he took his keys from the bowl on the stand near the stairs, walked past Jude and Connor, and closed the door behind him.

            “As you can see, my father is…” Jude mocked his father’s hand-wave.

            Connor snorted. “Yeah, very charming.  Also, you have an SAT tutor? That’s, like years away.”

            Jude glanced at Connor from the corners of his eyes.  “She’s been tutoring me for a year already.”

            “Jesus. That’s intense, bro.” Connor whistled. 

            “Not as intense as it’s going to be if we don’t tell anyone you’re here.”

            “Listen, I just need the night.  Can we deal with this in the morning? Please.”

            Jude couldn’t figure out what it was, whether it was his eyes, or the softness of his voice and expression, or anything specific at all, but he knew he was about to do the most irresponsible thing he had ever done. “Okay, but first thing in the morning we are calling Lena.”

            Connor grabbed Jude and hugged him.  It was awkward.  Jude couldn’t really hug him back, as Connor’s arms were wrapped around Jude’s arms. All Jude could manage was lifting his hands to pat Connor’s sides.  It would have to do.

            Connor released Jude and said “how about a tour?”

            The Stevens’ house was a monument to the minimalist aesthetic. For all of the importance he placed on his son being well-rounded, Adam’s sense of style was all ninety degree angles. Everything was clean, clear, and well defined.  Every object in the house performed a function, even the art had been selected to enhance the angular qualities of the rooms.  Like everything else about Adam, his will in decorating had also extended its reach into Jude’s room.  The sole sign of any sort of teenage presence there was two beanbag chairs.

            “Dude, your room is so clean.”  Connor said as he looked around.  He spotted the only thing on the wall, “You like Shepard Fairey?” he asked, pointing at the picture.  It was a high-contrast, black and white close up of the face of Andre the Giant, and underneath his head it said OBEY.  You know the one. 

            “I guess.  My dad got it for me. He said it’s an original.”

            “No fucking way.” Connor got close to the silkscreen image.

            “How do you know who that is?”

            “Dude, he’s like a famous street artist.”

            “Street artist?”

            “Yeah, like graffiti and stuff.  I love that shit.”

            “I guess if you want to call graffiti art.”

            “It is! It’s sick.”

            Jude collapsed into a beanbag chair. “You’ll have to ejumacate me.”

            Connor laughed, picked up the other chair and tossed it next to Jude’s. He flopped down on it. “Hey, I never apologized for being such an ass when we met.”

            Jude squirmed a little more upright to face Connor. “You don’t have to apologize, I said some things I shouldn’t have.”

            Connor paused. “So, we’re friends, right?”

            “Of course! I wouldn’t be doing this if we weren’t.”

            “Maybe the group home will let us hang out sometimes.”

            “Group home?”

            Connor looked sideways at Jude as if the statement was self-explanatory. “Dude, after this, Stef and Lena aren’t going to keep me, and no one is going to want me.  I’m going to be sent to a group home.”

            “You don’t know that.”

            “You have a lot of experience with the foster system, do you?” Connor was getting defensive. 

            “No, look, we can work this out.” It was Jude’s turn to plead with Connor. “I really don’t want to lose you, man.  We just met and, like, I think we could be really good friends.”

            Connor’s head caved into his chest and his hands went to the back of his head. He was holding back sobs, or at least he was trying. “I can’t believe I hit that guy.” He said through the tears, “I’m such a fuck-up.”

            Jude leaned in closer to Connor and put his hand on his back. “It was a mistake. We all make mistakes. You just have to learn to control your temper.”

            “No man, you don’t understand.  I do this shit all the time.  I freak out when people touch me.”

            Jude withdrew his hand and gasped, “I’m sorry.”

            Connor shook his head and slowly reached his hand out and took Jude’s wrist. He guided it back to where it was only a second before.  Still sobbing, he said “I liked that.” He picked his head up a little and looked at Jude. “I like you.”

            Jude sat in silence for a moment, just rubbing Connor’s back. “I like you, too.” Jude wasn’t sure what to make of the exchange, but he didn’t want to exacerbate the situation by asking for a detailed explanation of what was transpiring between the two of them at that moment.  Instead, he waited, patiently consoling Connor as he exhausted his tears.

 

***

 

            Post consolation, the remainder of the evening was spent in the pursuit of less weighty conversation and activity.  Though the house was minimalist in its style, it did not lack modern and expensive amenities.  In the basement of the home, Adam had installed a state of the art entertainment room, replete with home theater and various gaming systems.  Jude’s regimen of scholastic endeavors prevented him from taking advantage of this set up on any regular basis, so he was delighted to be there and to use it with his friend.  By the end of the evening, Jude had also come to realize that he had never felt quite so comfortable with anyone as he did with Connor.

            Instead of retiring to Jude’s bedroom, they set up a little camp for the night in the basement recreation room.  They settled in and put on a movie.  It had been a long, difficult day, and before long the boys had fallen asleep.

           

***

 

            Jude woke to the sound of rustling fabric.  He opened his eyes and saw Connor sitting up and crossing his legs. His hair was in total disarray, flying off in all directions.  Jude could not help but smile.  Connor looked down on him, beaming.  Jude’s stomach was spinning again.

            “Good morning.” Connor said, poking Jude in the stomach. 

            Jude yawned and stretched the whole of his body, as a cat does after a long nap in the sun.  He rolled to his side and curled up again, clutching his pillow.  Connor was still looking at him.  “Good morning.”  He yawned again, then closed his eyes.  Had he not closed his eyes, he would have been able to see the pillow before it slammed into his face.

            “Wake up!” Connor pounced on Jude, ruffling his hair. 

            Jude instinctively went in for Connor’s waist.  It was the nuclear option, but as Connor was straddling him, he had no choice.  Connor keeled over.

            “No fair!” Connor screeched through his hyena-like laughing fit.

            Jude relented.  It was a mistake. With surprising speed, Connor grabbed Jude’s hands and forced them back as he got on top of Jude again.

Jude struggled, but it was a lost cause.  He finally relaxed, smiling and looking up at Connor. Jude was sure Connor’s eyes had something to do with it.  And his laugh.  And that face, even when he wasn’t smiling, that soft expression.  It was so close now.  Jude could see his eyelashes so clearly when Connor’s eyes were closed like that, so close to his own.  Jude closed his eyes and held his breath.  Connor’s lips were as soft as his expression.

            Jude felt Connor’s weight lift off him and slide to the side, his hands grazing down Jude’s arms to his face. He heard Connor sigh. Jude rolled over and opened his eyes and saw Connor’s face, frozen in half terror, half joy.

            “I hope that was okay.” Connor said.

            “Yeah.” Jude replied, half whispering.

            “I really like you, Jude.” Connor’s hands had wandered around, searching for Jude’s fingers, finding them and holding on. 

            Jude returned Connor’s grip. “I really like you, too.”  At least that part was settled.

            “This is a disaster.” Connor said.

            “Why?”

            “We aren’t going to be able to be together if I go to a group home.”

            “Then lets make sure you don’t.”

            “You have a plan for that, genius?”

            “No, but I know Lena. I bet she’ll keep you.”

            “Why do you think that?”

            “You’ve met her daughter Callie, right?” Jude was giggling.

            “Yeah, she’s like a goody-goody.”

            Jude whistled and shook his head. “Ho boy, she hasn’t always been like that.”

            Connor perked up.  He really hadn’t invested much time in getting to know this family, so sure he was of being expelled from it toute de suite. “Really?”

            Jude rolled over and grabbed his phone, then rolling back toward Connor. “Really.”

            “I’m nervous.”

            “Don’t be.  We got this.”

            “Can I have a hug before you call?”

            They snaked together and squeezed, heads burrowed into each other’s necks. The weight of the future was temporarily relieved. They let go.

            “Ready?”


End file.
